


your face in the morning

by ethandiesofdysentery



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, Bodyswap, Crack Treated Seriously, Getting Together, Kinda?, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roommates, at least claynthony and snapchat are, claymond bakes in this because i said so, george is just there 4 now, george is stupid and so fucking in love, i cannot emphasize enough how much of a big gay idiot george is, i cant stop starting dnf fics apparently, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-27 15:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethandiesofdysentery/pseuds/ethandiesofdysentery
Summary: The Dream Team meets up for George's birthday. George has a little bit of an obsession with Dream's face. The universe has a little bit of an obsession with fucking George over.-or-When he wished he could wake up to Dream's face, he didn't mean in themirror.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	1. candles

**Author's Note:**

> YES IM STILL WORKING ON ONTOLOGY AND A FEW WHITE LIES I PROMISE BUT BRAIN HAVE TOO MANY IDEAS
> 
> and this ship is too fucking easy to have ideas for i hate them. so anyways. i said there wasn't enough bodyswap in the dnf tag. so i will proceed to fix that. 
> 
> ALSO SIDENOTE IM GETTING MY FIRST VACCINE IN A WEEK WE LOVE BEING A DISABLED ESSENTIAL WORKER UGH 
> 
> enjoy the fic you nerds. love yall <3

George has never been so anxious to get off a plane. 

He's stuck behind approximately 25 people in the aisle because he'd thought that sitting in a row near the back wouldn't be a problem. He has been proven wrong. And out of the 25, approximately half of these people are taking multiple eternities to get their luggage out of the overhead bins. George is pretty sure that if this keeps up much longer, he's going to miss his own birthday party. It feels like goddamn _years_ before he's muscling his way through the crowd to get to the terminal exit, even if it's only been, like, five minutes. Well, if he thinks about it, his dash through the gate has really been a few goddamn years in the making after all.

It's been 48 hours since Dream had jokingly texted him and Sapnap about having an In-Person George's Birthday Party, and George had responded, although in quite a few more words, "Bet." And Dream didn't say no.

Within another hour he had a plane ticket. And now here he is the Orlando airport scanning wildly for his friends, which isn't all that easy when he only knows what one of them looks like. It doesn't help how surreal this feels - it only makes it all the more heart-pounding when his gaze finally lands on a familiar face.

Sapnap sees him at the exact same second and breaks into a huge, stupid grin. " _Gogy_!" he yells, bolting across the room to wrap George in the biggest, most painful hug of his life. George thinks he might've bruised a rib, but goddamn is it worth it to have one of his closest friends in his arms for the first time ever. He slowly extracts himself from Sapnap's iron grip and shakes himself off like a wet dog, getting a choking laugh out of Sapnap. George lightly punches Sapnap in the arm in response, like he's always wanted to do every time his friend says or does something stupid, and Sapnap just laughs again. And that's when George sees _him_.

Walking over to them is the most gorgeous man George has ever seen in his life. Listen, he already knew he was bi. It was just that he had such a preference for girls that it didn't feel like it was that important. But George is suddenly reminded, with the force of a semi-truck to the face, of exactly what he finds so attractive about guys. And damn it if he wouldn't swear off women forever for one night with this one. He's tall, slender, with hints of muscle under his t-shirt. He's tanned as all hell, and his face is splattered with what George would consider to be, scientifically speaking, "the perfect amount of freckles". His hair is shaved on the sides, but on top is ruffled and wavy and sandy blonde and cascading - George can't believe he's using that word, but _cascading_ \- down the side of his head as much as mid-length hair can possibly cascade. George has fallen in love except love is also a very deep pit and he is not ready to get to the part where he hits the bottom.

And then it gets _worse_ somehow because the guy comes up and whacks Sapnap jokingly against the back of the head and says in a very, very, very familiar voice, "Shut up, Sap, you're being so loud I bet they can hear you on the fuckin' planes." And then _fucking Dream_ looks up - well, more like down, honestly - to George and smiles an _extremely nice_ smile. "George," he says simply, warmly, and without warning, pulls George into a hug that's, impossibly, even more crushing than Sapnap's. 

George understood that Dream was tall, but he didn't realize he would be _this_ tall. He's shoulder height to Dream, which isn't super great for him because the hug shoves his face straight into the crook of Dream's neck. He smells like vanilla and cinnamon, George notes, which isn't what he expected. Not that he's thought long and hard about what Dream would smell like in person or anything. Absolutely not. George pulls out of the hug after what is most definitely the normal amount of time to have your face shoved into your best friend's neck.

"Dream," he finally manages to say back, because it's the only response he can come up with. Dream's eyes are shining and strikingly similar to the color of his Minecraft skin - George suddenly finds himself in desperate need of those colorblind glasses. 

Dream laughs. "Y'know, we're officially 'IRL' friends now. You can call me Clay if you want."

That's not about to make George drop dead from shock. Nope. He is fine and able to hold normal social interactions with pretty men who are also his best friend of years and years and years. He tries to regain his composure by responding, "You never let me call you Clay!"

Dream - Clay, George is _so_ gonna call him Clay now - laughs again and holy fuck does it sound so good in person. "Yeah, but now you're here in front of my face, and it's kinda weird for you to call me by a Minecraft username, Mr. NotFound." 

George snorts. "Fine. Clay it is," he says, as if he needed to think about that decision at all.

"Hello, lovebirds? Are we going to the car or not?" 

George nearly jumps out of his skin at Sapnap's voice. He almost opens his mouth to argue, but then remembers they've always talked to each other like this. Right. This is a normal situation that is not bringing up absolutely any repressed feelings deep down inside the pit of Forbidden George Thoughts. 

Clay laughs again and gestures forward. "After you."

George clasps his hand to his heart dramatically. "Oh, such a gentleman," he says, earning a big stupid laugh in return and that's damn well enough for him to get a move on.

The trio chatter the whole way to the baggage claim, and then to the car, and then the whole drive to Clay and Sapnap's house too. It's just like every time they talk, except now George can see their faces light up as they speak, and watch Clay's hands fly about wildly in conjunction with his words, despite the fact that he's the one driving the car. (George was lucky enough to call shotgun, and after a short bout of slapping at each other's hands, Sapnap finally gave in and let him take it.) George is having the time of his life, as long as he ignores the roiling storm of Big Gay Panic in the bottom of his chest.

When they pull up to Clay and Sapnap's house, George discovers that, for once, it's pretty much exactly what he expected. It's a pretty simple little two-story with light yellow walls and something around the average amount of flower bushes surrounding it. But that doesn't dampen the soaring, swelling feeling that overtakes him at the realization that he's going to be spending his birthday week at his best friends' house, which might be the best birthday present he's ever gotten.

When he enters the house, he spots a prominently displayed chalkboard that has been transformed into a list titled, "Georgie's Big Birthday Extravaganza Itinerary", and underneath the days of the week are listed, each accompanied by their own list of activities. George spots "cake" on there about a million times. 

"How many cakes do I get?" he asks, chuckling. 

Sapnap is barely being overdramatic when he answers, " _All of them_." He grins and continues, "Dreamykins over here is the world's greatest baker. I've coopted him to make you infinite birthday cakes." (It takes everything George has in him not to say, "That explains why you smell like spices!")

Clay rolls his eyes and whacks the back of Sapnap's head again, which gives George the idea that it's a habit between the two of them. "I volunteered, you dumbass. And I'm not some magically talented baker or something, Snapmap. Don't get his hopes up."

George smiles at his friends' antics. "I'm sure I'll love them."

"Speaking of!" Sapnap exclaims, gesturing dramatically at the itinerary, pointing George's attention to the item labelled, "Welcome Cake".

"Do I get to unpack at least?" George asks, gesturing to his suitcase, which Clay had very kindly carried in for him _way too easily_ with strength that George hadn't expected from him, but...definitely doesn't dislike.

"Of c-"

"Nope. After cake."

Clay glares at Sapnap, but George is already being dragged into the kitchen, where a chocolate cake sits, with one candle placed neatly in the middle. Sapnap grabs the lighter that had been set on the table in preparation with a slightly concerning glimmer in his eye.

"I only get one candle?" George asks, trying to act like he's hurt by this. 

Sapnap laughs as he flicks on the flame and lights the wick. "Don't worry, Gogy, we'll make sure to put all 25 on your actual birthday cake."

George laughs. After a moment of silence, he realizes no one is cutting the cake, and when he gives Sapnap a quizzical look, his friend just raises an eyebrow. 

"Blow out the candle, dude!" Sapnap instructs, gesturing at the cake with the still-lit lighter. (After an icy look from Clay, he turns it back off, giving his friends an embarrassed smile.)

George overexaggerates his annoyed groan. " _Fine_ , then," he whines, and then leans down to do so. 

When he does, he finds himself making eye contact with Clay over the top of the cake. Clay is smiling warmly at him, his teeth just peeking out from underneath his lips. His face is just a little bit flushed. The singular candle flame dances in the reflections of _those fucking eyes_. Fuck, he's goddamn perfect. So as George is blowing out the candle, he finds himself thinking, _Man, I really wish I could wake up in the morning and see that face._

The flame goes out. George flushes that thought right down the mental drain. It has implications he doesn't quite feel like diving into right now. Instead, he just straightens up and says, "So, are we eating the cake or not?"

Sapnap is once again the one to grab the dangerous kitchen tool, waving the knife around a little too much before he cuts the cake, likely just to freak Clay out a little more - which definitely works. George accepts his thick slice graciously, and finds when he bites into it that the baking of this dessert was probably the source of both the vanilla and cinnamon, which are accompanied by some other spices he can't quite place. Sapnap wasn't exaggerating after all. This might be the best cake George has ever eaten.

Halfway through everyone's slices, Sapnap pipes up, "Hey, George, did you make a wish?"

George's brain shuts down for a second, because fuck if he's going to say what he'd really wished for out loud, but then he decides to just say, "No. I forgot you're supposed to do that." It's not really a lie. He hadn't _meant_ to make a wish, his thoughts had just wandered there on their own.

"Next time then," Clay says, giving him that same warm smile that's been melting him inside out this entire time, and George nods because fuck, he'd do anything if it was accompanied by that grin.

The boys proceed to clean up their plates and put away the rest of the cake, and then George drags his bag to the guest room and unpacks, and wishes his friends goodnight, because even though it's not all that late, he's at least going to try to beat his jet lag. Sapnap nods and wishes him the same, and Clay smiles again, goddamnit, and pulls George into another crushing hug. 

"Sleep well, dude," he says. 

And because Clay and his gorgeous smile were the ones who told him to do it, George does.

///

By the time George wakes up, the sun is streaming in the window and lighting up the insides of his eyelids. He rolls over, yawns, and stretches, and then opens his eyes.

And everything is so _bright_. 

It's not because of the sun, because it's not the amount of light that's bright. It's the things in the room themselves. Every inch of this space is plastered in colors George hasn't seen since he wore those glasses - and even then, they weren't this vivid. It's fuckin' dizzying. 

It's probably because of the sudden full-frontal assault of color that it takes George a second to realize this isn't the room he fell asleep in. It's much more lived in, and a little bit of a mess, with poster-covered walls and clothes-covered floors. It's definitely not the guest room. A weight settles itself on his chest.

Except, it's a literal weight. When George sits up, he causes the little cat on his stomach to roll over onto the bed, making an indignant _mrrow!_ noise. He reaches out nervously, and she immediately straightens up and rubs against his hand.

"Oh!" George says, remembering whose house he's at. "You must be Patches!" Patches purrs and forces her head harder against his hand.

The sound of his voice rings wrong. It echoes off the walls in a way it's not supposed to. George clears his throat and tries again. "You're Patches, right?" Patches purrs again. And George's voice is still _wrong_. It's a little too deep, and it's got a crackling to the edges that it's not meant to have. He touches his throat, expecting it to be swollen or something. It's not, but it still doesn't feel right.

Concerned, George swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up. He almost immediately gets something that feels like vertigo. Is it just him, or is he higher up than he's used to? He wobbles a little on his feet, and then steadies. He looks down at himself, and finds a tanned, muscular, shirtless body that is _very much not his_.

Trying not to trip over (not) his feet, George manages to make it to a full-length mirror on the wall of the room and finds himself making eye contact with the same face that has been haunting his mind since he first saw it yesterday.

George can't help it. He screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> as always, kudos and comments make my day!! <3 i'm really excited for this fic because i have a little bit of an obsession with bodyswap fics. pls also be excited with me FDKSLKSJFD
> 
> (also I rly need a dnf writing buddy to infodump ideas on djdbdjdb I don’t have enough friends. anyone wanna be nerds w me.)
> 
> have a nice day everyone! love ya! <33


	2. coffees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is screaming, explaining, and lies, but only by omission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for liking this fic i love body swap and thoroughly enjoy writing it. no i am not starting this chapter in the middle of class. I would never.
> 
> and no i am not finishing this on the bus to work. never.
> 
> love yall.

George stumbles backwards, unable to look away from his - from _Clay's_ face in the mirror. Tripping over too-big feet at the end of too-long legs, he falls backwards onto the bed with an _oomf_ and barely misses Patches, who meows indignantly in response. If not for the fall, George isn't sure he would've ever stopped screaming. 

He stares blankly at the ceiling, which is covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, of all things, in colors that George is currently seeing for the first time, through someone else's eyes. Patches walks up to him and butts his face with her forehead. He looks back up at her.

"Your eyes are green," he informs her, dumbfounded. 

"Mrow," Patches replies, as if saying, _no shit, idiot_.

George manages to sit back up, and once again is met with a shirtless Clay in the mirror. Panicking, for an innumerable amount of reasons, he reaches down and snatches the first piece of clothing he can find on the ground, which happens to be a piece of Clay's own merch. After a brief struggle between long arms and sleeves, George manages to pull the neon green hoodie - another color he's not used to seeing - over himself, covering up what he has decided is probably fucking illegal for him to look at. He feels like he's hitting gay thoughts down like it's Whack-a-Mole, and the thing is, they just keep popping right back up.

It's not a second after his brain constructs that questionable analogy that there's a knock on the door. George jumps to not-his feet with a start, only swaying off-balance a _little_ bit this time. He barely has time to readjust to being a tall-ass bitch before the door opens and Sapnap pokes his head in.

"Dude," he says, eyes still squinted half-shut with fatigue, "it's, like, seven in the morning. Why are you screaming?"

George opens and closes his mouth like a goddamn fish. "Why am I screaming?" he replies, stammering over his words because he can't stop them from coming out in a stupid American accent, damn it. "I'm, uh, screaming. Because. Uh."

Sapnap is waking up more with each word George idiotically throws out into the world. Now, his eyes are narrowed in suspicion rather than sleepiness. "Clay. Dude. What's up?"

George feels more stupid than ever when his immediate response is, "Oh, yeah, Clay, that's me. Right. Yes." Listen, you can't blame him for needing to remind himself who the hell he looks like, but it definitely doesn't help him on the "convincing Sapnap everything is normal" front. Well, actually, why the hell does he need to do that anyways? What does he have to fuckin' lose? "Okay," he corrects, right as Sapnap is opening his mouth to say something else in an undoubtedly dubious tone, "no. No, I am _not_ Clay, actually."

Sapnap's mouth slams shut, and then drops right back open. After a minute or so of having his own turn at being a fish, Sapnap manages, " _Excuse_ me?"

George grimaces. He's off to a great start here, clearly. 

"Uh," he continues weakly. "Sapnap, I'm _George_."

He expects Sapnap to start freaking out as much as he is himself, or even to react at all, but instead, his friend just snorts, relaxing as if this fixes everything. "Okay, sure you are. Very funny." George is starting to wonder if maybe it would've been able to convince Sapnap that he _was_ Clay than that he wasn't. 

"No, uh, I'm not joking," he says, hoping the panic that he knows is shining in his eyes makes it obvious that he's being serious. "Sapnap, I'm fucking serious, I think we did a Freaky Friday."

Sapnap's face starts to fall. It's clear that this is starting to seem possibly, maybe, a little bit true to him. "Okay. George, Clay, whoever you are, I'm dead serious," he says. "In all fucking honesty - _who are you_."

George inhales sharply before replying, deadpan, "I'm George."

"Oh, shit. Okay, holy shit," Sapnap replies, which is honestly exactly what George would be saying in this situation, so he can't hold the illegibility against his friend. "Oh, shit, you're George."

"Yeah, we've established that," George says, crossing not-his arms over not-his chest and cocking not-his hips to the side in a gesture that, judging by the choked laughter that escapes Sapnap's mouth when he sees it, is not one Clay has ever done before.

"Okay," Sapnap says, more to himself than to George, while alternating violently between taking deep breaths and hyperventilating. "Okay, so then where's-"

"WHAT THE _FUCK_?"

George points towards the direction of the scream. "There's Clay," he comments helpfully. 

Sapnap and George share a split second " _we should go check on him, right?_ look before bolting out of the room.

Okay, well, Sapnap bolts out of the room. George tries, and ends up tripping over himself again and landing on the floor with the thud.

"Dude, if you break his body, Clay's gonna kill you," he says, although he's clearly holding back laughter.

"Not if I kill me first," George replies, slowly climbing back up off the floor. Damn this tall fucking body. How does Clay live in this thing?

George turns to run towards the guest room, where his body and therefore Clay now are, and instead, he runs face first into...himself. (Well, okay, himself runs face-first into him, more like, because as he had previously observed, his height ends right at Clay's neck. And, like with everything else, now those roles are reversed.)

"Guys, holy shit, I-" Clay starts to blurt out, then stops and changes to, "Holy fuck, why am I _British_?" And then his eyes climb up the body he'd just slammed into, and he sees his own face, and this time he yells, "OH MY GOD YOU'RE FUCKING ME."

George wants to say something, anything, even if it's stupid - his top bets right now are "No, you're me!" or "Since when are we fucking?" - but all he can do is...shrug.

Clay looks down at himself, examines his hands, runs them through George's much shorter hair, presses them against his face like Kevin McCallister, then looks back up to George and finally says, "George...?"

"Clay," George responds blankly. 

And then, must to Sapnap's behest, they both scream again.

///

"You're not putting that in my body."

"Damn right I am."

"No, you're not!"

"Boys, boys!" Sapnap yells, grabbing both of his friends' attention. He's removed the itinerary board from the wall and wiped it clean, having now designated it the "Dream Team Fixes George And Clay" board. Unluckily for him, he seems to be the only one even trying to form a plan right now. "Can we please focus?"

"Not until George dumps his coffee down the sink," Clay answers levelly, glaring at George, which is a fuckin' trip for him to see on his own face.

George waves the mug threateningly at Clay in response. "It's not like you're gonna taste it."

"It's still not going in my mouth!"

"GUYS!"

George and Clay both snap to attention, looking to where Sapnap has now written on the board, underneath the heading, "STEP ONE: WE STOP ARGUING ABOUT COFFEE".

George and Clay turn back to each other. They make direct eye contact. And George takes a huge sip out of the mug. Clay proceeds to list off a novel's worth of swears, some of which George doesn't think he's even heard before. And then they both shut up.

"Are you fuckin' done now?" Sapnap asks, raising an incredulous eyebrow and looking between the two of them.

George and Clay both nod mutely, although Clay is still giving George the Look. George wonders how the youngest member of the trio manages to be so much more functional than the other two. 

"Good. Anyone have any ideas?" Sapnap asks as he scratches "IDEAS?" onto the chalkboard. After a good 20 seconds of silence, he groans. "Seriously? No ideas? No one angered a witch or wished on a star or any of that bullshit?"

"Wait, George did!" Clay blurts, pointing an accusatory finger. 

"When?" George asks, raising an eyebrow. "I don't remember any witches or stars, Clay."

Clay groans, scrubbing not-his hands down not-his face. "No, dumbass, but you made a wish, didn't you? You blew out the candle on your cake yesterday!"

George almost chokes on the next sip of his coffee. That's most certainly not territory he's about to hop into right now. "I told you yesterday, I forgot to make a wish, remember?" he lies. "Besides, what would I have wished for? 'Hey, universe, I want to wake up in Clay's body today, I think!'" George wants to keep rambling on, but he's getting really weirded out by Clay's voice and accent coming out of his mouth, and he just wants to shut the hell up. 

"I don't know, he's got a point," Sapnap says, getting a fist pump from Clay and a scowl from George. "You could've wished to be taller, or something. 'Cause that technically would've come true." He gestures between his friends, as if they actually need demonstration of their reversed height difference.

George wonders if maybe he should make up some fake wish or something, but he can't see how that would help him in the long run. He's going to lie anyways. It's not like it's any less helpful to finding the solution to their situation. So he just repeats, "No, I forgot to make a wish." (Which, again, is technically the truth, because he _had_ forgotten to make one, he'd done it accidentally. That's technically not a lie. Probably.)

"Okay," Sapnap says, although he clearly doesn't believe George. He turns back to the chalkboard, where he's written "witches?" and "wishes?" under "IDEAS?" and crosses them both off. "Back to the drawing board, I guess."

Sapnap starts scribbling down more ideas. George takes another sip of his coffee, making direct eye contact as he does. Clay flips him off.

And so on, and so forth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now that this is done im off to start ch 2 of a few white lies!! which is gonna b more of sapnap being the only reasonable person in the story, naturally. ALSO my brain is now going brr on a good place au starring clay as eleanor, george as chidi, sapnap as jason, tommy as tahani (ft drista as kamilah bc its my fic and i make the family relations), bad as michael, skeppy as sean, mr jimmy beast as mindy st claire, karl as janet, etc etc etc,
> 
> u know the drill! kudos and comments make my day, etc etc, and totally help inspire me to keep going!!! yall are so sweet and big thanks to you for following me on this wild adventure so far. love yall again <3


End file.
